Blood Ties
by Praedyth
Summary: They were family, he came back for her once and he promised that he would again. But as the time lingered since they last saw one another at Kirkwall hope faded and she found herself once again with a familiar face. With Hawke gone and Cullen once again with her, Vivial Amell lends aid to the Inquisition. And just when she lets him go Hawke returns. [non-Warden Amell][eventually M]
1. OPENING

**OPENING**

"And as the black clouds came upon them,  
They looked on what pride had wrought,  
And despaired."

\- Chant of Light

* * *

There was a breath caught whisper upon her lips, a hard lump in his throat, and for a moment there was only silence.

There was a smell of ash upon the wind as the two stared at one another, the gold of his eyes searching the dark of hers. They had seen a lot, more than they ever should have seen, but the only comfort they could find was that they saw those things together. Even now as the city burned they found a certain solace in each other's company, warmth in the idea that they stood at one another's side. The tide upon the water rocked the little boat and from where he stood on the dock he could still see the shaking in her limbs. She was hardly a woman that was so easily frightened and he felt sorrow for the fear that dressed her like mourning silk. It made his heart hurt to even think about it.

"Come now don't cry Vi, I'll be safe." Hawke said softly as he pulled his lips to her hair, a scent of flowers stronger than death upon the wind. "I promise."

Vivial didn't doubt he'd be safe, he had better luck than most, but it was the fact that they hadn't been separated since the Blight that unsettled her. At this point they were about the only family that the both of them had and it was an unsettling thought to think that they were possibly about to never see one another again. Carver to the Wardens, Leandra to a murderer, Maker knew where Gamlen was and here now they said their goodbyes. His lips to her hair, she bit back welling tears and instead concentrated on her fingers upon his arm. Through the cries of terror and the sound of swords off in the distance the young woman told herself to center her thoughts to his heartbeat. A heavy smile twisted her red lips upward, beneath the darkness she felt her own heart become heavy. "I'll hold you to that promise," she said with a whisper, the tears warm on her rosy cheeks. "You better come find me when this is all done."

Behind the girl the sound of the boat keeper made a light noise signifying that it was time to go. Hawke and the young Amell couldn't find it in themselves to say goodbye quite yet but the city was getting much worse and the longer they stood saying their goodbyes, the more people died. What Anders had done, all the countless, innocent lives lost, no mage was safe and Hawke needed Vivial out of the city before things got worse. She knew this and as much as she hated to admit it, she knew she had to leave if they were to ever meet again. Her fingers lingered upon his arm and he brought her chin upward so their eyes met, the gold glinting with the fires that raged on.

"I promise to find you, now go."

Vivial gave one last smile in spite of the sad tears and moved her lips to his, something that Hawke reciprocated immediately. The hairs of his beard tickled her chin and in spite of herself she smiled softly. Fleeting, their moments were fleeting and as quickly as it began it ended. There was a taste of hunger but it was overpowered by a worried quickness as his lips left hers, it settled upon her tongue like light upon dark waters. In her heart the girl knew he would come for her, she just couldn't stand the absence that was looming. The young Amell knew loneliness before, understood what it was like to live in solitude, and now as a runaway mage it was going to be a dangerous journey on top of solitary. It left a dark feeling at the pit of her stomach with the very thought.

There were no words that followed her this time and as he stepped back to push the boat away from the docks their eyes lingered. She felt like a moth trapped in a glass jar watching him stay, her heart fluttering like butterflies and her stomach full of bees. Behind him stood his companions, all of which were silent as the two said their farewells, and they were ready to fight for what mattered. Fenris, Merrill, Varric, everyone else whose eyes held the same strength Hawke's did. They would win their fight and in no time he would come for her, that was a promise, and if there was something about Hawke that she knew it was that he was good to his word. Memories of the Blight lingered, they came to get her through it all. Watching him from the little boat gave her hope as the city burned.

"I will wait for you," Vivial said and her words carried to him upon the wind. "I promise that I will!"

It would be a long time before they would see one another again, however, and along the way old faces would return.

Some she never thought she'd ever see again.


	2. I

**I.**

* * *

Ferelden, for what it was worth, reminded her of a cage.

Vivial had spent the earlier half of her life in the Circle and the feelings that lingered from those days felt like shackles. It had been a long time since she had left Kirkwall, days blurred into months during the passing of time since then, and it reminded her of something akin to spinning too fast on a summers day. It was dizzying, often she'd close her eyes to drown it out, but the feeling of things slipping was still there. From the time of arriving all those days ago and the time it took to wait for him made her heart hurt. She said she'd have waited forever, she would have too, but time wasn't going to let them wait that long and she had to move on.

And so Redcliffe was home, mostly.

That's where all the rebel mages had washed up at least, where she too found herself after it all truly began, and though she hadn't known the confines of Kinloch Hold for a number of years it still reminded her of those days. The Royalty of the lands claimed Redcliffe was their sanctuary in the time of war but from one birdcage into another was all that it was. There were no faces she recognized in the crowds that often passed her by but the feeling of imprisonment was all the same. Often the Amell would keep to herself and watch from afar, the dark steel of her eyes keeping track of those who paced. From her time with Hawke she learned quickly how to keep to the background without making her presence known.

From her tavern perch she watched, quiet like a black bird watching death. The woman could feel existence of the Tevinter Mages among the crowd and felt the cold air follow them. They hid well among the rebels but she knew them like prey could smell a wolf through the trees. Dark eyes, dark stare, she sat in the corner of the crowded room and waited. That's all the lovely thing had known for it was second nature to her now. Four years had come and gone, four years passed with not even an utter from any of them. It felt as if it were all just a dream and she was just waking up from a bad headache during a rough night's sleep. Just the thought made her heart sink.

But there was something curious this day. There were words upon tongues that the Inquisition had just arrived in town and it piqued her interest, word was quick but Vivial's curiosity was quicker. They said they were siding with the mages, there was hope and fear with those words, but Vivial felt the need to seek out this supposed Herald of Andraste for herself. The most curious notion that came upon the tongues of gossipy mages was that he was a Templar- curious, truly, that he would find favor in the rebels.

In truth it didn't truly matter that he was a Templar. One mage fought for other mages and it did not end well. Templars fought for their Maker, they died all the same too. It didn't matter who fought it all for people would come and die all the same, blood was still red when it was spilled. Death would be the only victor in this matter and the Breach demanded sacrifice from all causes. Neither magic nor divine intervention would change that fact which was the most unsettling matter of all.

Irregardless Vivial shook her head and looked towards the stairway and let out a momentary sigh. There was a smell of alcohol in the air and like brushing away a headache she squinted her eyes as the smell got increasingly stronger from the stranger who passed her by. Thoughts of the Hanged Man came to mind and she wished that if she closed her eyes she was still there. Those were fonder and less dire times, something her heart longed for, and in truth she wished they had never gotten mixed up with all that mage and templar business. Some other sorry sod should have been the one it had been given to, not Hawke, and perhaps maybe they would still have been together. The thought lingered and she scrunched up her nose at the thought; maybe all the family would still have been together.

Fingers upon the warn wooden table, Vivial's eyes staring into the vast sea of pacing souls, the Amell found herself staring at particular folk with the sound of an opening door. Four new souls, four that stood out like a sore thumb among the troubled rebels, but the one nestled in among them caught her attention the most. Shorter in stature, broader in shoulder, a curious grin and a chest full of hair poking out from the rich colored cloth. For just a moment she wondered if her wish came true as her heart raced, perhaps she really was in the Hanged Man, and the longer she looked the harder it was for her not to call out the dwarf's name. Instead she found herself watching a curious event unfold like a book with pictures, eyes dark and watching. How intriguing that it would be Varric.

"Welcome, agents of the Inquisition." The Grand Enchanter spoke the moment she had spied the small but far from inconspicuous group enter the establishment. "What has brought you to Redcliffe?"

The male in lead gave the Enchanter a curious cock of the brow which had been followed by an almost amused look. It formed his features like frost upon winter windows, slowly at first and full of a confused air as it crept upon him. The question formed his lips, eyes flickering with the nearby candlelight, and then the words fell from his tongue like weight through thin ice. "Do you not recall inviting us back in Val Royeaux?"

Giving her own perplexed eye the lady shook her head, her dark hair framing her face. "You must be mistaken. I haven't been to Val Royeaux since before the Conclave."

Vivial watched the small group speak but in truth Vivial wasn't much interested in the roundabout confusion that took place. Instead she found herself eyeing the dwarf in the Herald's company and found herself recalling a certain dark haired mage whom the Herald resembled slightly, one that Varric used to follow such as so. Except the Herald was younger, smoother in the face, and much more clean shaven than her scruffy cousin. Could it truly have been divine intervention that he was there? Or maybe even fate that she was there? It was funny how things played out like that, how one door closed and another opened. Her heart thumped heavily in her chest but she made sure to not let it get the best of her.

A certain ache stabbed at her like a silver knife, however, and even after removing her eyes it remained. Fate, divine intervention, no matter what it was, the bitterness of being forgotten was no easy thing to truly actually ignore. Quietly she watched them again.

"How odd," The male spoke as he cocked his head in response to the Enchanter's words after a moment of thinking. "because someone who looked just like you spoke to me in Val Royeaux."

"Exactly like me? I suppose it could be magic at work, but why would anyone..."

There was a pause as the woman thought and the Herald was quiet. A second more passed, the Enchanter hesitated as the next words fell from her lips like tossing rocks into water. "Whoever... or whatever brought you here, the situation has changed. The free mages have already... pledged themselves to the service of the Tevinter Imperium."

The Herald's companions were to speak then, silence no longer theirs. The dark haired woman who she did not recognize was fierce in her response, the elven man was concerned about the slavery that the Imperium was so well known for, and Varric simply made a jest. All three were outspoken about this alliance and as a mage herself Vivial couldn't help but to agree with them all. Granted she hated the towers but the Imperium was the complete opposite of what she had wanted for her and the others like her. Two extremes, in truth. "As one indentured to a Magister," Fiona responded quietly, the shame painting her like a canvas to an artist. "I no longer have the authority to negotiate with you."

But it was then the air became colder, it made Vivial's spine tingle. The sound of the tavern's door opening and closing made the little room suddenly feel like winter came early. What little conversation outside of the Herald and Enchanter took place was silenced like animals smelling a predator stalk through the forest. The two men, father and son, garbed like wolves in sheeps clothing came in with smiles. The two groups were quiet as the father spoke to them all. "Welcome, my friends! I apologize for not greeting you earlier."

"Agents of the Inquisition," Fiona spoke as that same shame dripped from her. "allow me to introduce Magister Gereon Alexius."

From here Vivial turned away as the Herald and Tevinter took a seat after pleasantries. Lowering her eyes from the group she felt her soul tremble before the Maker as she drowned out the words of the Magister. In truth when he came to Redcliffe initially it felt peculiar, like a dream or even a nightmare. Memories passed her by like moths in moonlight and it was difficult to say what exactly happened. Having been in Redcliffe was surreal in itself and a lot of the time things fleeted by her as the days merged into days. The groups words became like thunder roaring upon the plains, it was there but drowned out as she fell into her thoughts. Everything had been surreal since leaving Kirkwall that night, really. Things happened but she didn't truly recall them.

For a few minutes the father and herald spoke. In that time Vivial let her eyes and thoughts wander as she could hear words be exchanged. They spoke of the mages being in the legion, a fate like chains, and truly the Circle had more freedom than that. Tevinter to some burned like a flame in darkness but the Amell could see the shadows linger upon the walls. It was no freedom, it was no promised land, it was just another tower but worse.

There was a tingle at the back of her neck as she drifted through her thoughts. Someone was watching her and with a movement of her eyes upward lifted to catch Varric smiling at her. The dwarf gave her a wink, Vivial would have smiled in return, but the Amell sat back in her corner chair. Caught, she was caught like a fly in a spider's web.

But then she noticed the younger of the wolves stumble to them. Somewhere along the way he was sent somewhere and now he returned but wobbly like a newborn foal. Curious she observed and found herself watching as the Tevinter boy fell forward onto the Herald, the Templar catching the mage as the father stood from his seat. "My Lord I'm so sorry," the man said as he was helped upward by the Herald who gave him a smile. "Please forgive me."

"Are you alright?" the father asked as he rushed to his son to check him over. The sickness was present then and the younger male shook his head. "Come, I'll get your powders. Please, excuse me friends. We will have to continue this another time."

Leashed like a dog the Magister demanded Fiona come along and still shamed she agreed. Vivial shook her head as she watched the little parade quickly made their way to the exit. The Tevinter Magister turned as Fiona ushered the younger male along, the father directing his words to the Herald who watched them all take their leave. "I shall send word to the Inquisition." He said with a quick bow. "We will conclude this business at a later date."

And just like that, they were gone.

"Well, if it isn't Vivial." she heard then, the gruff of the voice with a smirk of a tone. "the last I saw you, you were leaving Kirkwall on a boat."

With a turn of her dark eyes the mage found herself at the mercy of Varric. A soft but sad smile crept up her lips as she stared at him and as the Herald came closer to the table where she sat, Vivial took to her feet in accordance to the greeting. The dark blue of her robes pooled at her feet and with a light bow of her head, the raven locks cascading down her shoulder, her eyes met the Trevelyan's soft green. "An introduction would be nice, Varric." Trevelyan teased which provoked a bigger smirk from the dwarf. "and whom might this be?"

"Greetings, Herald." the mage spoke softly as if upon que. "I am Vivial Amell. A pleasure to meet the Herald of Andraste."

Varric shook his head with a laugh, Vivial and the Trevelyan looking to him then curiously. "What she actually means to say is " _I am the cousin to the Champion of Kirkwall._ "

Suddenly the other dark haired woman turned with an almost ferocious look to the dwarf. If she hadn't been in the company of the Herald Vivial was sure she would have punched him considering her fists were balled up tighter than laced leather. Confused and perhaps even a little unsure of the correction to her greeting, considering she hadn't heard it spoken aloud for some time, the group watched as the other woman gritted words between her teeth. "Cousin to the Champion, Varric?" she asked with a heated tone, the dwarf smiling. "Would _she_ happen to know where the Champion is?"

"Settle down, Seeker, _nobody_ knows where the Champion is." Varric said as he shook his head and moving away slightly to put distance between them. The woman grimaced as she was told to settle down and it made her fists ball even tighter. Whoever this Seeker was made Varric squirm, Vivial was curious about the two's relationship. But as the mage stared she found her eyes meeting Varric's as he gave her a new look. "Unless?"

The last half of that was directed to Vivial then and they all turned to the mage who stood at their mercy. The question hit her hard and almost bitterly so. If she knew where he was, would she be here as a pawn to Tevinter? The Amell took in a soft breath and purged her heart of the sting. They were asking too which meant they also didn't know, it was an honest question and deserved an honest answer. "No, I haven't seen the Champion since Kirkwall."

It wasn't the answer she wanted but the Seeker shook her head like a mad bull.

"Alright you two, settle down." The Herald said and it set everyone back in order. "Can you tell me what exactly is going on here, Vivial? There is something strange going on."

And with that the Trevelyan held out a note and thoughts of the young wolf came to mind. Tevinters were tricky, they liked their cat and mouse games, and she noted the paper that the male held. Those in his group looked it over and a soft silence lingered as the girl gave him an honest reply. "In truth I'm not exactly sure what is going on. Caution is needed but I believe your answer lies within the chantry like the paper would suggest."

The Trevelyan looked from her to the paper and gave a moment of thought. "Alright but I would like if you came, if you will."

Varric gave a grin and Vivial nodded, eager to no longer wait around. "It would be my pleasure."

* * *

The chantry lay on a little hill hidden from the sun beneath tall trees and the group was quick to ghost through the little village. Some of the mages watched them but held their tongues, perhaps in fear, but through what little rays of light poured in past the leaves the little group made their way towards their destination. Vivial felt a bit unsure about entering the holy grounds but not from fear of a trap but rather being at the mercy of the Maker. She was a mage, she was not supposed to look directly to or at him, she was meant to ask him for forgiveness from the stairway far away from where he sat. That's what she was told and that's the way it was meant to be.

So the moment the Herald's hands met the wooden door and pushed it open for all of them to enter Vivial hesitated slightly. But the sound of fighting brought her from her pause, the sight of a lovely man fighting pushing her even further without any true thought. The others walked in guarded, the Trevelyan in lead, and the moment the male in the center of the room cut down the last enemy from the rift a string of words flowed from him like the demons flowed from the green light. "Good! You're finally here! Now help me close this, would you?"

It was curious but Vivial nor the others hand any time to question it.

Instead they fought, the Herald stronger than Vivial could even have imagined. They were all strong though and in truth it put the woman to shame. From the sidelines mostly she watched and noted the way they all flowed together like water off of rocks. A few of the demons were matched to Vivial herself and though cut down the others were fierce in expelling the things that came from the fade. Some of hers were caught in ice, the other dark haired woman strong and shattering them with a quick blow. The Trevelyan with his bow shot from afar alongside Varric, the elven male assisting. Truly they were fierce and worthy of stopping this plight upon the land.

Seconds passed and they felt drawn out though. More magic, more swords, more shattering of frozen solid demons. Time drifted and she knew it was just moments it felt like eternity. The girl brushed dark hair from her eyes and caught a peak of what the others were doing. It made her heart rush.

But then the Herald held out his hand high above his head, the others fighting still but Vivial pausing to watch, and through gritted teeth the man slowed the Rift. Slowed though, everything slowed down, and with a heavy breath inward the girl could feel herself slowing down too as it closed. "Fascinating!" the male that she had almost forgotten about the entire time they had fought commented as soon as the Herald stitched the vast opening up. "How does that work, exactly?"

The Trevelyan grinned like a wolf though and rolled his shoulders. The others gathered with a quick pant and as the mage starred at the Inquisition another look of bemusement fell upon his dark features. "You don't even know, do you? You just wiggle your fingers, and boom! Rift closes."

"And you are?" The Herald questioned and the dark haired man gave a quick smirk.

"Dorian of House Pavus, most recently of Minrathous." he replied after catching himself for being too quick. "How do you do?"

Suddenly it hit her like ice on a snowy morning. A Tevinter in the house of the Maker and it made her chest tighten slightly. The thought made her tongue tingle and her heart flutter, it was odd and it made her shift slightly. The Tevinter male caught her eye and he smiled at her too, something that made her even more unsettled. She smiled as well but it was strained and he caught that. The other female accompanying them turned to the Herald and gave a dark look that reminded the girl of looking into a pool of water. "Another Tevinter. Be cautious with this one."

There was only another grin though and he was smug. "Magister Alexius was _once_ my mentor, so my assistance should be valuable- as I'm sure you can imagine."

In spite of the Herald's own amusement it was quickly noted by the Herald that they were expecting someone else. There was an explanation that after the note he was meant to meet them there after ditching his father. Vivial though remained skeptical and stood guarded irregardless. Tevinters were a dangerous lot, they seemed like friends but they most definitely were not. From beneath dark hair she watched; in case anything happened she would be ready.

"Alright," the Trevelyan said with a soft sigh. "You are betraying your former mentor why?"

For the first time in the conversation the Tevinter's looks grew a little more serious. "Look, you must know there's danger. That should be obvious even without the note."

And then he explained it, everything that he knew. Everything from the mage allegiance to strangeness in the slowness. It made Vivial's head spin and she was standing firmly in place. He spoke of Alexius playing with time and figuring out how to manipulate it. The very thought twisted her stomach, the other woman's face growing fiercer the long the Tevinter spoke. He also explained that the magic he was using was wildly unstable.

But the jest of the Herald's provoked a knit of the Tevinter's brows, strong words coming from him as well. In the defense of his pride Dorian stated that he helped develop it when he was the Magister's apprentice but also explained he didn't know why the Magister chose to do it at all. Then upon que the young wolf came back, out of the shadows he stood, he looked ill but not too ill and the words made all of them look to him. "He didn't do it for them."

With the same friendly manner returning Dorian gave him a look. "Took you long enough, is he getting suspicious?"

"No but I shouldn't have played the illness card. I thought he'd be fussing over me all day," the other replied as he looked toward the Trevelyan. "My father's joined a cult. Tevinter supremacists. They call themselves "Venatori. And I can tell you one thing: whatever he's done for them, he done to get to you."

There was no hesitation in the next words that followed. "All this for me? And here I didn't get Alexius anything."

But as they talked further Vivial's thoughts trailed away to the night of Kirkwall. When all the mages and the templars fought and when she said her farewells to Hawke. The sound of the Herald and the Tevinters speaking were drowned out, it made her heart almost the only sound. What if she had stayed? What if she never left him and they were together now, dead or alive? Nowhere was safe for mages especially when things like this were happening, especially considering things that Alexius played with was a true and real threat.

"But whenever you are ready to deal with him," Dorian said as he turned away, Vivial being pulled from her thoughts once more. "I want to be there. I will be in touch."

After a moment between the two Tevinters where the one told the other not to get himself killed, they both turned to the darkness. Vivial was quiet, the Herald quiet too, but just after a moment of that the Herald shook his head. "Time to return to Haven then, hm?"

But before he looked away he looked to Vivial and gave her an eye. "Will you be returning with us or will you stay with the rebels?"

The girls eyes drifted towards Varric and he gave her a reassuring smile. To stay alone further or join a group with a goal to close the giant hole in the sky? They all stared at her and from beneath the dark tresses a smile graced her pretty red lips. "I will join your cause, Herald of Andraste. I want to see that hole closed."

The Herald gave her a smile then and nodded. "You will make an excellent addition, Vivial."

* * *

Days passed since leaving Redcliffe and it felt good to be on the road again. It had been a long time since being apart of any kind of group looking to do good. Upon the road she shared a few laughs with her old friend, she learned of Cassandra the Seeker and Solas the mage. They were kind as they could be to her and in truth she wasn't looking for a friendship like that. In time they would be familiar, friendly faces she had decreed and though they weren't now that was fine. She was simply happy to be with the Herald and those who wanted to fix what was broken.

Haven wasn't what she was expecting, truly. All the refugees were a strange sight. There were tales of the Hero of Ferelden taking the Sacred Ashes to heal the Arl of Redcliffe and though almost unlikely it made for thought provoking nights back in Kirkwall when the Blight Refugees spoke of them. In some ways it made her homesick, she missed Kirkwall. For a time she thought it would be home but then again she thought the Circle was home too, neither working out clearly. Haven wouldn't be home either but as long as it was better than Redcliffe she was willing to stay.

And as they arrived they were greeted by the Herald's people. They flocked to him and urged him into the chantry where he eagerly agreed to go in order to explain the events that happened in Redcliffe. Like a lost puppy she tailed and so did Varric, something curious twisting the dwarf's features. He was hard to read that way; he always smiled and when he wasn't, that's when she knew there was something wrong.

But then the moment they passed through the doorway a familiar face stood out.

Vivial spied him, her eyes like a raven's from beneath the black of her curls, her heartbeat picking up the longer she stared. In great contrast he was nothing like her cousin, nothing like him from the dark of his looks to his disregard for the rules. Instead the man before her was fair and just, had a sense of duty that cut at the edge of her heart just thinking about it. She could feel at her back where Varric nudged her forward and the Herald gave the both of them a curious look as the former Templar and apostate met eyes. Upon both of their lips words formed, within their hearts feelings stirred, and in this moment Vivial was reminded of her time in Kinloch Hold where delicate times like these were all they had.

"Vivial Amell?" he spoke breathless and reminding the dark haired woman of her girlhood. "Is that... you?"

A smile crept upon her lips, her heart constrained like a mouse to a snake as the feeling of being with friendly faces made her chest tighten. "Hello, Cullen."

The both of them stood, awkward perhaps, before one another as a smug Varric entertained a mostly intrigued Lord Trevelyan who eagerly awaited to explain Redcliffe.


End file.
